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Fiction Imrahil's short stories

Discussion in 'Fluff and Stories' started by Imrahil, Jul 29, 2020.

  1. Imrahil
    Slann

    Imrahil Thirtheenth Spawning

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    Thank you very much :) :)

    I based it on the 'Day of Testing' and 'Rite of the Sacred Guardianship' described on @Scalenex 's treasure trove. ;)

    Grrr, Imrahil
     
  2. Scalenex
    Slann

    Scalenex Keeper of the Indexes Staff Member

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    I likely put more time and thought into that thread than any other fluff related thread. I'm happy it inspired good fiction writing.
     
  3. Killer Angel
    Slann

    Killer Angel Prophet of the Stars Staff Member

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    I've used it too sometime. It's a goldmine.
     
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  4. Imrahil
    Slann

    Imrahil Thirtheenth Spawning

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    It truly is.

    Grrr, Imrahil
     
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  5. Imrahil
    Slann

    Imrahil Thirtheenth Spawning

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    This is the story I wrote for the October-November 2021 short story competition.

    The theme was: "Parallel Dimensions"

    My entry:

    Call for the Old Ones

    Krkrkr ggg We can’t find west… gggkg Everything is wrong. We can’t be sure of any direction. Krggkr Everything looks strange, even the ocean.”

    The radio went silent again. A couple of seconds past, Alfred hit the button to button.
    “Can you tell us where you are? Do you have any reference points?”

    Alfred released the button and waited for an answer. No response.
    He looked up at his superior, Captain Wiley.
    Wiley nodded to him, giving him a silent command to try to make contact again.

    “Control tower for FT-28, do you copy? FT-28, do you copy?”
    Again nothing.

    This time captain Wiley breached the silence: “Keep trying to contact them, I need to make the necessary precautions.”
    Alfred understood and turned back to the transmitter: “Control tower for FT-28, do you copy?”
    No response. Time after time there is no reaction coming in.
    After twenty attempts the captain walked back into the control room. His face clouded with a worried expression: “Any change? Did they make contact again?”

    “No sir, still nothing.”

    *****

    “Boom, bom, boom… boom, bom, boom.”

    Drums sounding deep in the jungle on the Islands of Sacrifice. Torches are lit along a path towards one of the central mountains. On the side of it a little temple is carved in the rocks. In front of the temple a Skink Priest is standing nervously staring into the jungle before him. On either side of the entrance platform a Saurus is sat whit a drum taking it in turns to sound them in a repeating rhythm:

    “Boom, bom, boom… boom, bom, boom.”

    Between the trees a small shadow appears and it follows the path towards the temple. At first it appeared to walk, but when getting closer it is revealed to be a Skink gatherer approaching with great speed. Still accompanied by the sound of drums.
    Over his shoulder a small leather pouch is swaying from side to side as he runs closer. Once arrived at the foot of the temple he climbed the stairs up to the platform where the Priest is still waiting even more impatiently. He stretched his hand out to receive the pouch and immediately turned around and walked in to the temple, towards the altar.
    Suddenly the drums stopped and another sound was heard coming from inside the temple:

    “Ieeek, squik, squiieeek!”

    On top of the altar a figure was struggling to get out of the ropes that were bounding it to the cold block of stone. Dark brown, uneven patches of fur, claws whit hideous long and tainted nails, a couple of big teeth sticking out underneath a pointy nose and a long flesh-colored tail. This was unmistakably one of the Rat-people that had infested and plagued the Lustrian lands in the last months more than once.
    Bound to the altar it had no change of escaping. Nonetheless it tried viciously while loudly screaming and shrieking.

    The Skink Priest ignored the sounds and struggles of the inferior creature and walked over to one side of the room. There stood a sort of desk, more like a workbench. The light of torches reflected on the golden tools and objects on the desk, they laid in a clean and orderly fashion. The Priest picked up a small mortar and pestle, took the pouch and pulled dried leaves out of it. After crumbling the leaves to a powder he walked over to the altar.
    The Skaven noticed the Priest closing in and started shrieking even louder.

    The Priest held the mortar in one hand and reached with the other underneath his feathered cloak. With a swing he pulled out a sacrificial dagger with a curved blade. The torchlight flashed in it as he lifted it and brought it back down.
    Whilst carving into the Rat’s flesh he held the mortar in front of his face and inhaled deeply. Immediately his eyes widened and the vanes in his face thickened. His hand with the dagger started to move quicker and quicker, the Skaven’s shrieking build up to a climax and suddenly stopped.
    Both the dagger and the bowl fell on the ground as the Priest reached into the now cracked open chest, blood pouring over both sides of the altar.
    The eyes of the Priest started to glow and he raised his hands, covered in blood, holding the heart of the Skaven. He opened his mouth and spoke with a low voice that seemed to come out of the temple itself rather than the Priest:

    “Great beings from times past! Creators of all that is and was! Wisdom eternal! I call upon you, givers of life and rulers of the heavens! Come to us today and lead us on the righteous path to complete your Great Plan once and for all! And cleanse the world of this chaos and filth! ’

    Dark clouds started gathering high above the mountain peaks.

    *****

    An hour had past, Alfred already had stopped counting the attempts to get contact after half that time. Still no result. Not long before an attempt at rescue would be launched. His captain had gathered a crew to take flight any minute.

    He tried once again:
    “Fort Lauderdale for FT-28, do you copy? FT-28, do you copy?”

    A few seconds past and suddenly the radio sprang to life:

    “Kgg krg… We can’t make out anything. We think we may be about 225 miles northeast of base… kkgggr… It looks like we are entering white water. We’re completely lost. Gk ”

    Struck by surprise Alfred turned to the door and shouted on top of his longs: “CAPTAIN!!!”

    *****

    As the clouds grew thicker and thicker the complete sky darkened and the atmosphere felt heavier than before.
    Down below the winds moved the jungle canopies. It almost looked like the trees were dancing to the music that no longer was played.

    With thunderous rumble the clouds rolled over each other and suddenly a crack of light ran through the center of it all. But instead of disappearing the crack of light was imprinted in the clouds and widened further. A downfall of fresh wind poured out of the opening and five Avenger Torpedo Bombers came forth through the rift.
    The Sauri and Skink in front of the temple stared at the sky. The Skink turned towards the Temple:

    “They have arrived! The Old Ones have heard our call!”

    Grrr, Imrahil

    >Back to Index<
     
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  6. Imrahil
    Slann

    Imrahil Thirtheenth Spawning

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    Some words of my own:

    When the theme was announced I directly started thinking of ways to apply it. I was set on the Parallel between Warhammer and our world, but not sure how to work it out. My first thought was about something happening in Warhammer to have an influence on the other world, much like the parallel in the winning story of "Light and Darkness". I could not find a great way to work it in.

    So I started to look into historic mysteries which are said to have something to do with parallel dimensions. This brought me to the Bermuda Triangle. As the Warhammer World is some sort of a projection of our world it was fitting to incorporate Lizardmen into the story because they live roughly in the same area as the Bermuda Triangle. Upon further investigation I found the missing Flight 19 (as @Aginor mentioned correctly) this was a perfect fit for the story I intended.

    The used radio transmissions from the airplanes are the real last words heard from the pilots before disappearing.
    After the reading started I figured that perhaps a date at the start of the story might have helped to make it more clear, without giving away to much.
    The reason for summoning the planes to Warhammer was pretty unclear to myself for a long time. I finally settled on keeping it vaguely between:

    - the Skinks picked the wrong dimension to open a portal to, or
    - the humans are in fact the real Old Ones and 'we' have created the Warhammer World.

    Grrr, Imrahil
     
  7. Imrahil
    Slann

    Imrahil Thirtheenth Spawning

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    I am pretty happy with the 3 votes my story got :)

    I was really glad that you, as the first reviewer, figured out the link with Flight 19 :) :)
    It made me happy to read that you liked it.

    We'll nothing interesting to see here ;)

    I agree with the open ending. As said it was intended, but perhaps to much to create the feeling of a completed story. Good points to take a note on for a next story.

    Grrr, Imrahil
     
  8. Aginor
    Slann

    Aginor Fifth Spawning Staff Member

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    I'm an aviation fan. :)
     
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  9. Imrahil
    Slann

    Imrahil Thirtheenth Spawning

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    Good to know for upcoming competitions ;) :p

    Just out of curiosity: at what point during the story did you notice it was about Flight 19?

    Grrr, Imrahil
     
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  10. Aginor
    Slann

    Aginor Fifth Spawning Staff Member

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    Here. Together with the "everything is wrong" part of the first paragraph it clicked, because "FT" stands for Fort Lauderdale.
     
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  11. Imrahil
    Slann

    Imrahil Thirtheenth Spawning

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    This is the story I wrote for the January-February 2022 short story competition

    The theme was: "Parasite"

    My entry:

    Throw caution to the wind

    A light breeze blew over the banks of the Questing Serpent River. The usual dark blue water now glowing with a bright green hue. Slowly the river brought the filth of chaos out to sea, cleansing the land around it of the Nurgle infestations.
    In the breeze a cloak of feathers moved back and forth. Overseeing the delta Yuq'al-takuil stood firm with a smile of satisfaction on his face. The battle was won, with a minimum of casualties. The corruption by Nurgle stopped, all deamons were slain.

    Suddenly a bright icy-blue light surrounded Yuq'al-takuil. Behind him several beams of light breached the clouds above and cascaded figures down below in a cold light. Saurus warriors, Skinks and even Kroxigors. In a couple of seconds the battlefield was left alone, not a soul to be found in sight.

    ----

    High above the plains of Ghur multiple pyramid shaped objects floated in the sky. On the outside it looked like giant temples of old, battered and weathered stone, partially covered with vegetation. If one was able to see them, this high up, they would not be able to make out what these things were, let alone how they possibly were kept afloat.

    ----

    Aboard one of them the transporter room bathed in the same icy-blue light that now vanished at the surface of Ghur. Yuq'al-takuil stepped out of the light in to the room. Immediately the light faded and disappeared. In the fading several scaled forms started to take shape. Five Skinks walked around the room pressing buttons and pulling levers until all light was gone. For a moment the room was pitch black. Yuq'al-takuil took a deep breath he was back home.
    With a sound click the small yellowish lights at the ceiling sprang on. The busy Skinks removed their shaded visors that they had been wearing while the bright light was on. The oldest of the Skinks stood up from behind his control panel to greet the Skinkpriest. “Welcome back, sir!”, he approached him bowing forward, “What an outstanding victory you have claimed today!”
    “Thank you, Tak’ek Muntoc.” Was Yuq'al-takuil’s reply, “Are we all back?”
    “Yes, sir, all the living have returned. You are the last.”
    “Fine. Good job.”

    Yuq'al-takuil left the transporter room. As he walked in to the corridor he shook his head and mumbled under his breath: “Suck up!”

    Although his own Constellation had not suffered that many losses Yuq'al-takuil knew that of the other Constellations at least two had taken countless victims to the swarming hordes of Nurgle. Their strategy had seem so watertight and all would have been relatively smooth sailing for them. They did not account for the Realm portal to be kept open for that long. Atop of it the portal was unexpectedly widened to fit a dozen of Greater Deamons and even a Great Unclean One.
    Even the exceptional Saurus Guards couldn’t hold the tide of Nurgle for that long.
    It was to divine magic shielding and a shower of comets by the great extent of their Slanns that they regained the upper hand and they were able to destroy the portal.

    -----

    The communications room was two floors above the transporter room. Yuq'al-takuil had to walk three corridors and take the escalator at the far end of the ship to get there. Along the way he passed the barracks of Skinks and Kroxigors. The barracks of the Saurus were stationed at the opposite side of the floor.
    The fast and light-footed Skinks were busy as usual, they always made their hands find or create work. In stark contrast with the mellow pace of the mighty Kroxigors next to them. But today there was something off about their behavior. At first Yuq'al-takuil had not really noticed it between all activity. It wasn’t until he watched and followed one Skink completing his task. Now and then the Skink interrupted his activities to scratch his nose and wipe his forehead. Yuq'al-takuil stopped and inspected another Skink to see the same behavior. And another, and another. All Skinks acted the same way. One of the Kroxigors started to act in a similar way, even more than the Skinks he seemed to scratch and sweat. What was even more different were his eyes, the usual yellow eyes were starting to glow red. First at the edge, but slowly it crawled to the middle, causing him to blink and rub his eyes.

    Yuq'al-takuil started running. With a rush he entered the communications room shouting at the Skinks on duty: “Shut down the barracks immediately, close all doors until further notice! Make a connection with the other ships, fast!”
    With a few touches on the dials a siren started to sound and alarm lights started flashing. With a buzz three holographic images appeared in front of the Priest. Two other Skink priests and a Saurus Old Blood. “Praised be the Old Ones!” Yuq'al-takuil said, and before waiting for any response he continued: “It seems that our ship has been infested in the aftermath of the battle. Be aware of any signs under your subordinates”

    ----

    On the lower floors the tumult was increased by tenfold as all Skinks and Kroxigors now scratched at their faces because of the itch they felt.
    Yuq'al-takuil watched from behind the closed door preparing for what was to come. In the corner of the barracks a Kroxigor sat down with his back against the wall he was curled over holding his knees and had his tail wrapped around him in a form of protection. He rocked slowly back and forth. Yuq'al-takuil figured that he was infected the most, so he probably was the one that had brought it on to the ship. In preparation of entering the barracks Yuq'al-takuil whispered a prayer of protection with his eyes closed. He opened his eyes again and turned a switch beside the door and manually overrode the closure protocol. With his staff in one hand and the other stretched out before him he approached the Kroxigor. Step by step the Priest moved closer all the while muttering a chant in a soft voice. With only five steps to go he pointed the staff at the Kroxigor a sphere of blue arcane light encased the Kroxigor. Only then did the Kroxigor lift his head and noticed the Priest.
    As soon as the Arcane sphere was set all other Skinks and Kroxigors stopped scratching and a sigh of relieve was heard and felt through the whole barrack.

    “What is it that you have with you?” Yuq'al-takuil asked
    “Don’t hurt us. It is my friend!” He replied, “it found me by the river.”
    The Kroxigor moved his tail and hands aside to reveal a little furry kitten laying asleep at his lap.

    A smile appeared on Yuq'al-takuil’s face. This was not what he had expected. He relaxed his open hand a little and the sphere shrunk, it no longer encased the total Kroxigor but only the kitten. Yuq'al-takuil rotated his hand sideways and the kitten started to ascent from the Kroxigors lap and float towards the Skink Priest.
    “Don’t hurt it!” the Kroxigor repeated.

    Yuq'al-takuil walked down the corridor floating the kitten along in front of him. He walked around the corner to the transporter room. The Kroxigor followed them with his eyes, through the welling tears he could see a flash of icy-blue light coming from around the corner.

    Grrr, Imrahil

    >Back to Index<
     
  12. Imrahil
    Slann

    Imrahil Thirtheenth Spawning

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    Note from the writer:

    When the Theme was announced I knew I wanted to write a story in a way that could be interpreted as an infectious decease spreading within the Lizard community. At first I had no clue how I would be able to do this and what it in fact really would be.
    If it was to be hostile, what would be the goals or intentions from it.

    Then I stumbled upon a article on allergic reactions and figured Lizards could be allergic to cats as they are not that familiar with them being around.
    The hard part was writing an end for it. The story is not quite finished to my satisfaction, but it was the best I could come up with within the time given ;)

    Grrr, Imrahil
     
  13. Paradoxical Pacifism
    Skink Chief

    Paradoxical Pacifism Well-Known Member

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    What a cute story <3

    Thanks for your work, it was delicious food.
     
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  14. Imrahil
    Slann

    Imrahil Thirtheenth Spawning

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    Thank you kindly :)
    I am glad you liked it

    Grrr, Imrahil
     
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  15. Imrahil
    Slann

    Imrahil Thirtheenth Spawning

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    This is the short story I wrote for the April-May 2022 short story contest

    The theme was: "The Old Ones"

    My entry:

    The Hooded One

    Streets glimmering, pyramids shining. The city of Chaqua laid glistening in the afternoon sun. In the middle of the Great Jungle this city formed the beating heart of the New World. From across all of Lustria the Skinks, Sauri and Kroxigors knew the path to this majestic feat of architecture.

    On the streets amidst this architecture is where Qu’ Tuazl sat thinking about how it progressed from what this city once was. It all actually started when the Slann locked himself away in his Temple-Pyramid to further meditate on the Great Plan and its application for the first children of the Old Ones. By excluding himself from society, society excluded him even more and over the passing of years forgot completely about him.
    In the absence of purposeful guidance a new purpose was made. Skink priests found plaques within and outside of the cities borders. These plaques spoke of evil tidings, offerings and salvation by a deity. Not long after these signs surfaced a name was rumored on every street and corner. Skink prophets preached it and spoke of the great serpent as the guider of life.
    More and more Skinks joined this religion, the amount of followers grew and grew to cover every inch of the city.

    In honor of this deity and to win more of its praise an enormous temple was planned to be build within the city’s limits. The foundations where raised quickly and the inhabitants of the city where reluctant to join in for this outstanding project. Layers of brick upon layers of bricks made out of gold from the finest quality. The sheer size of this temple’s floorplan was unfadeable. A first floor, a second floor followed within a year of construction work. The third and fourth floor took five more years. Then the pace of construction startled further and further. Around the twelfth floor a new spawning of Skinks had come and gone. Yet the building was still not halfway finished. Even after three cycles of spawning the top was not reached. Most Skinks had given up on the project for it took more than a day to get a brick up top for construction.

    Qu’ Tuazl looked upon the construction site a couple of blocks away from where he sat. As Skink Alpha from his spawning he had the responsibility to keep the project going. This felt more and more like a burden than a privilege. The enormous task to complete this monstrous Temple was a World Wonder in itself. The last years there was hardly any progress, the few dedicated skink builders that had continued carrying bricks to the top had not returned from their labors.
    Qu’ Tuazl looked up to just see the sun hit the horizon before diving past it. The daylight would soon be fading. His thoughts where cut short due to tumult at the gate. Qu’ Tuazl stood up and walked up to the gatehouse. Skinks of different divisions walked in and out, amidst them four Temple Guards stood unmoving. In between the Guards a single figure was hold in place. He reached the same height as the Guards and was from top to toe dressed in a black cloak. He didn’t show his face or seemed to care about the fuzz the skinks were making.

    Qu’ Tuazl stood aside as the Skink Priest, Toc’l Mundi, set foot at the plaza in front of the gate. The rumor dimmed down and the Skinks fanned out to make way for the Priest. With a staff in his hand he walked slowly closer, meanwhile taking up the hooded figure from top to bottom.

    The Priest was the first to speak: “Who is it that comes unannounced? What is your business here?”
    “I am a mere traveler. I came with an offer of help for this city.”
    “What help could you give a city like Chaqua?”
    “If you have me within the city for just this night I will finish building the Temple for you.”
    “Why do you think we will trust you?”
    “Search me and find that I do not carry a single thing. I only bring knowledge and craftmanship.”

    Qu’ Tuazl walked over to the Priest and tapped him on the shoulder. Toc’l Mundi turned over to him. “Your excellency, may I have a word?”
    “Speak freely.”
    “What hurt could it do if we win a Temple with it? Sotek protects!”
    “Sotek will provide protection!”

    Turning back the Priest motioned the Guards to stand down and gestured the hooded figure to follow him.
    “Thank you kindly!”

    Evening turned to night and all Skinks turned to their barracks. At midnight Qu’ Tuazl left his barracks to see what progress the mysterious figure would have made and if he would be able to hold his promise. Closing in to construction side there was a noticeable change of the temples shape. The top part, that used to be flat had been build upwards from.
    To get a better look he climbed the closest ziggurat. Halfway up the ziggurat Qu’ Tuazl froze in place. What he saw shocked him to his bones. The thing that spawning upon spawning of Skinks had not been able to accomplish had taken the hooded figure about just half the night.

    From more and more barracks Skinks poured in to the streets, all in awe of the completion of Sotek’s Temple. After a search of the city nobody had found the mysterious figure anywhere.
    Though inside the top of the temple a deep metal tone sounded thirteen times…

    Grrr, Imrahil

    >Back to Index<
     
    Last edited: Jun 8, 2022
  16. Imrahil
    Slann

    Imrahil Thirtheenth Spawning

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    A few words of my own:

    When researching the Old Ones I came across a The Hooded One. An suspected Old One that had not been known to work in Lustria or amongst the Lizardmen at all. The only reference to him is in the history of The Doom of Kavzar and the rise of Skaven. Reading this story and how it unfolded I really wanted to (re-)write this to a Lustria version. What better way than to let it take place in Chaqua, the city that became infested by the rats.

    I struggled to find a way for the Hooded One to come into the story and build the screaming bell into a yet unfinished project.

    I am very glad that I at least got two votes for it :) :)

    Grrr, Imrahil
     
  17. Imrahil
    Slann

    Imrahil Thirtheenth Spawning

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    And now for the reviews:

    No comments here ;)

    Thank you for the honest review. The lack of information about motives is a trap I most often fall for, translating background thoughts into the story is something I struggle with. Mostly because I don't like to have everything spelled out, but there is a path between them that I need to find. Thanks.
    (sorry about the typos, I did not take a proper scan through before, or even after, sending it.)

    Huzzah, someone recognized the original story in my entry :) :) Thanks for the kind words both from you and Ikkred Fire-Hat ;)

    Grrr, Imrahil
     
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